DEATH
by Flame Swordmistress
Summary: Oneshot. After his final defeat at the hands of the pharaoh, the dying King of Thieves encounters the boy who was his vessel for the last time. Character death.


This has been sitting in the back of my computer for a few years now, and I figured I might as well post it. This portrayal of Bakura and the Thief King is far different from the style of my other stories, but I feel it is also far more accurate. The title is inspired by the un-dubbed Ouija Board from the Battle City Finals.

* * *

The King of Thieves lay dying slowly on the hard stone. Blood seeped steadily from magically-created wounds, the result of the pharaoh's final attack. But the pharaoh and his companions were long gone now, to Shadows-knew-where. There was not enough strength in his body to raise his head but he struggled internally, fighting to keep it from ending this way.

Footsteps reached his ears and he turned his attention upward. A figure moved into his now-much-smaller range of vision, white hair glinting in the fading light. Ryo Bakura approached quietly, the Sennen Ring held tightly in his hand instead of hanging from its usual place about his neck.

The Thief King zeroed in on the golden Item immediately. If he could draw power back from it, he could use it to save himself. He looked up and locked eyes with the mortal boy, focusing his will as much as he could.

"Give me the Ring..."

Bakura put a hand over it protectively. "You used me – body, mind, and soul – to kill people in order to further your own ends. You've been trying to kill my friends and classmates. When you were done with me, you would have killed me too. And you're asking me to save your life?"

A smile that was more teeth than humor pulled at the spirit's mouth. "What...did you think I was going to say? 'Just kill me'? That honorable-death crap doesn't do it for me...I want to live just as much as anybody else...Give me the Ring."

Bakura instinctively moved the Ring farther away. "No."

"Please." There was a higher, almost pitiful note in his voice. "Please. I don't want to die..."

"You deserve it, after all you've done."

"It's not my fault. The pharaoh...he killed them...Killed them all...My whole village...I never had anyone..." He drew a shuddering, raspy breath. "I've been hunted all my life...I've never had...a _chance _to actually live...Can you imagine what it's like? Living in...in exile in the desert...having to steal to survive...to kill to survive..."

Bakura's gut twisted. Water stung at the back of his eyes, a mixture of both pity and hatred for this loathsome creature beneath him.

"All I've ever had to...look forward to was...the day that I...would finally be able...to avenge my family...let them rest in peace...You have so much...to look forward to...You and your friends...I never had that...It sort of seems...like it would be nice...I'd like to try it someday...someday when I can actually _live_..."

The water was trickling down Bakura's face. "You're a filthy liar," he whispered.

"I'm telling the truth..."

"But you don't mean it. Any of it."

The spirit coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You're right..." The pitiful tone was suddenly gone from his voice as though it had never been. "But you'll...you'll help me..."

"What makes you think that?"

"Death," he choked. "You hate...death. You won't let..._anyone _die...if you can help it. Not even...me."

Bakura stared down at the fading thief, dying under his gaze. He gripped the Ring tighter, tears streaming from his hardened eyes.

"Watch me," he whispered.

The Thief King felt his heart go cold, and a real fear settled inside him. His former vessel's eyes held an unbreakable promise that made his blood freeze. Not a promise to kill him. A promise to _do nothing_. And that would be enough.

He could feel his connection to the world of the living slipping away, and he fought desperately to hang on to it.

"I'll bury your body when you die," Bakura whispered. "I'll do that much."

Panic gripped the spirit's chest but it was far too late to have any effect. Blackness swirled across his vision as he scrabbled madly in a last-ditch, failing effort for consciousness.

Screaming inside his head, the King of Thieves fell shrieking into the world of death.


End file.
